


Something Human

by Markirya



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Awkward Crush, Fantasizing, First Crush, It's all in Ed's mind, M/M, Masturbation, The Author Regrets Nothing, Wet Dream, so not really underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:35:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25791469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markirya/pseuds/Markirya
Summary: Bottom line, Ed was a crazy kid with a crazy crush or something and he should probably feel ashamed as hell, but he didn’t. He felt weird and a bit guilty, yes, and also like he wouldn’t mind not seeing the Colonel for a few millennia before he could face him again without blushing.It was going to be his private little secret.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Something Human

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an excuse to write Ed crushing on Mustang and having hormones whenever I feel like it.  
> I didn't tag anything about consent because everything that happens or will happen will be in Ed's mind. I really don't think that Mustang has those kinds of thoughts about Ed at that age, but Ed's a teenager with hormones, so he can get away with fetishising Mustang all day.

He was sixteen when it first happened, or at least the first time Ed was conscious of it. 

It should have happened earlier, it was normal, and Ed really didn’t need another reason not to be normal, but apparently that was his life. Not normal.  
He’d heard about it from people here and there, mostly during drunken conversations at dark taverns he shouldn’t be able to be in and way after working hours with Team Mustang, thankfully without Mustang. Dreams, and not any dream but the… dirty kind. Fantasies of crazy, bendy women with generous bodies and a very generous disposition. It was normal enough that the guys, when Hawkeye wasn’t there anyway, joked about it sometimes, threw it in in casual conversation that bordered on crass. Not that Ed was a hypocrite and minded crass, though he was a different kind of crass. 

One that hadn’t had a ‘wet dream’ as of yet, not one that was actually wet anyways, and wasn’t that a relief somehow. It sounded uncomfortable and difficult. They’d laughed a little at him when he’d confessed to never having one, but good naturedly, patting him on the back and claiming it was fine because he was so focused. However, they decided Ed should know all about it, because he was apparently becoming too grumpy. Fuck them anyways.

Who was he supposed to dream of? The image of dark and far too intelligent eyes popped up in his mind uninvited, and Ed sputtered. 

From what he gathered, people usually dreamt of people they found attractive, or liked. It didn’t make much sense, wouldn’t it be like disrespecting them? Ed saw a knowing, devious smirk aimed at him from the corners of his thoughts, and he choked a little bit.  
Then again, it was a dream, not like he would have any control- or fault, in dreaming about it. Them. Dreams were just ideas, crazy figments of thoughts reinterpreted and sewn together like a collage that didn’t necessarily make sense. 

It was a fucking embarrassing conversation to have in any case, and he wasn’t subtle in pointing it out, blushing and shaking his fist at his laughing teammates. The new topic of conversation couldn’t come fast enough. 

Shit. It hadn’t been a long conversation, and they’d all forgotten it by now probably, drunk as they were. Ed wasn’t allowed to drink, obviously. Not that he wanted to, though if it would stop his thoughts from wandering he thought maybe he’d try it. His mind kept going back to normal teenagers having wet dreams, and how he was not normal.

Also, Al couldn’t sleep, couldn’t have wet dreams, and it was so fucking stupid and he would never say it out loud, but he kinda wished Al could have wet dreams, just as a general thought and nothing specific, thank you very much. He just wanted his brother to be able to experience everything he could. If Ed ever managed- when Ed managed, to bring Al’s body back, would it be too late for wet dreams. Not that Ed wanted to know about it, he really, really didn’t, but maybe Al would appreciate it more than Ed could. Probably, as Al was far more honest with his feelings than Ed was. He shuddered.  
Ugh, he was sitting, sober, in a dark, dirty tavern wishing Al could have dirty dreams about someone. He was sick. 

On the way back to the apartment he shared with Al, where they shared a bedroom, he tried to think about someone that way. You know, for science. How did it work? You just thought during the day about someone you found attractive and then the thoughts came back and slapped you in the face while you were sleeping? You just- had sex with someone in your dreams.  
Ed felt his face turn warmer from the thought. Fuck. It was uncomfortable to even think about it, how could he even face that person after he’d dream of them. 

A flash of a smirk crossed his mind and Ed panicked.

Enough science-ing. He was better off believing he wasn’t attracted to anyone, anyways. He was Ed, focused on his alchemy and getting his brother’s body back. He was a man of science and facts, and he simply didn’t have time for bullshit. Especially not touchy-feely- or worse, sexy-feely bullshit.

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath just outside of the door, putting it all out of mind.  
Another deep breath. Another. There, he was fine. 

_______________________

The woman had bronzed skin, she was lean and curvy and beckoning him over. Suddenly, she was hovering over him, long reddish hair brushing his- naked, skin. She looked at him, deep green eyes, and bit her lips. One of her hands was wandering up and down his arm and chest, while she kept her weight on the other. Hovering. Waiting for Ed to do something. She was beautiful, with breasts that moved to the heavy rhythm of her breathing, and the skin of her legs was smooth and warm on his. Ed thought he should do something, touch her, kiss her, anything. She really was breathtaking, and Ed wasn’t stupid, but he couldn’t make his hands work. 

The woman sighed and looked him straight in the eye, and Ed shivered because he knew he had fucked up somehow. Her gaze was piercing, and Ed felt like squirming, she was seeing him, seeing stuff. He could feel it, she was realising things about him. Shit, he shut his eyes and wished her away, blinking them against a sudden light when he no longer felt the brush of her hair on him. 

Her long mane was disappearing, crumbling into floating dust, and it was getting darker by the second. Her golden skin was bleaching in weird patches, and the fingers tracing his arms and scars were no longer soft but rough, and the hand was bigger. In fact, all of her body was shifting, wider at the shoulders, narrower at the hips. Breasts were gone, and suddenly it was painfully fucking obvious that the body that pressed down on him was the body of a man, and not any man at that. 

Dark hair was cropped short at the back and messy strands Ed knew were slicked back during the day were falling all over Roy Mustang’s face. Ed couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and Mustang’s eyes were deep and dark and as mysterious as always, and he was all hard planes and muscles. Not that he knew how the Colonel looked without clothes on, but he could make an educated guess, and a lascivious one at that. Mustang was still biting his lips when the transformation was over and it looked so unusual on his face that Ed realised- finally, that he must be dreaming. He forced himself to wake up. 

Damn it all to hell and back, and blessed be the screen that separated Ed and Al’s beds so Al could read at night, even if Ed was sure Al could hear his heartbeat screaming and the harshness of his breath. At least he couldn’t see the hardness- the wetness, in his pants. 

Al was strangely quiet, and Ed just prayed to anyone that his brother thought it had been a nightmare and didn’t want to call him out on it. It happened sometimes. Ed got out of bed as though nothing was wrong, making his way briskly to the bathroom. He immediately cringed at the crazy eyes that stared back at him through the mirror and splashed some cold water on his flushed face. He took one encouraging breath and let his mind go. 

Fuck it all. 

He replayed the dream in his mind and cursed at every single bit of it. He replayed it a couple more times after deep, calming breaths and tried to look at it from a serious, scientific perspective. He felt nauseous with truth and realisation.

The truth was that the woman in his dream just didn’t do anything for him, she was very pretty but he knew, he fucking knew, that she was nothing. This uncomfortable warm feeling between his legs was all Mustang and his stupid long legs and stupid perfect teeth, the stupid way his suit made him look all handsome and whatever. 

He had hated that feeling ever since the first time. The way that Mustang got him riled up and hot and bothered, and made Ed want to smother him in… something. Cushions.  
Mustang always knew which buttons to push, and when to push them. It was very delicate work and the bastard had it down to an art, and Ed wasn’t immune to it, despite his best efforts.  
Mustang winked at him playfully and Ed’s chest constricted. He smirked and Ed wanted to bite it. He used his commanding voice and Ed wanted to obey it, and also rebel against it, push it, push him. Preferably against a wall. 

Mustang stirred something in him that Ed couldn’t name, or hadn’t known what to call until now.  
Desire. 

His breath caught. He was attracted to the Colonel.  
He actually thought the stupid, childish bastard was attractive. The really quite handsome, charming and most frustrating man in all Amestris, known playboy and all-around fucker. Surely it was just his mind playing tricks on him, like his nervous system does when he shivers hearing Mustang’s deep, official Colonel voice. 

Fine. He was probably all kinds of fucked up, but there was one way to find out for sure. 

Slowly, fearfully, Ed slid his flesh hand down, brushing against his abdomen as he went and clenching the muscles there as a response. He was all shivery and responsive, and the dream kept burning behind his eyelids every time he blinked. It was probably the best- and worst, time to figure this all out. Painfully aware of the fact that Al couldn’t actually sleep and was on the other side of the door, probably wondering what was taking Ed so long, he dragged his underwear down and over what was the beginning of an erection. He shivered. 

Before he could change his mind or Al went looking for him, Ed carefully wrapped his hand around his cock, shivering with a bit more violence than before. He knew the drill, what he was supposed to do, but he was a man of science at the end of the day.  
He brushed his fingers up and down his length, wondering at the heat that was growing in his abdomen, then slid his thumb over the head of his now decently flushed erection, feeling the sticky substance there.  
He spread it down as he could and wrapped his fingers around the still growing length again, this time deciding on doing what he was meant to do. He stroked slowly up and down, dragging the skin almost carefully, filing away his body’s response in a very man-of-science fashion. When he sped up experimentally, however, science just died for a bit and he was a normal person for a moment, so he ran with it.  
His mind was blissfully blank, his only thoughts were on keeping his breathing under control. 

His hand kept working his now fully erect cock into submission, faster and harder, and it fucked with Ed’s mind and flesh knee in that they were both wobbly and unstable.  
Holding on to the sink, Ed thought back to his dream, specifically about Mustang hovering over him, better yet, putting his weight on him, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. The hard press of his muscles, the firm hand on Ed’s arm that suddenly was rougher, gripping him tight, and the smoldering eyes. Fucking Mustang never stopped smoldering, and it was driving him insane. 

All of his senses were heightened and blocked at the same time, and perfect naked Roy Mustang was everything and everywhere. His fingers tracing his chest, his breath caressing his jaw, that fucking smirk so close to his mouth. 

His hand was moving fast, and there was no way Al wouldn’t figure out what was going on, but he didn’t care. The hand in his mind, his automail hand, was sliding over the soft skin of Mustangs back, putting pressure right where the muscles tend to knot, and then the Colonel was making a soft noise right by his ear, and Ed jolted in the real world and in his mind. 

Something terrible and beautiful was growing inside him, threatening to spill over.  
Mustang-in-his-mind reached for the back of Ed’s head, threaded his fingers into blond hair and tugged, bringing his mouth flush against his ear and harshly breathing ‘Fullmetal’ into it, and that thing growing inside Ed did actually overflow. He swallowed a scream by pure will power and came violently into his hand, multiple shocks going through him and ripping perfect, naked Mustang from his mind. 

He wiped himself up and washed his hands, giving no more than a cursory glance at his face.  
He was a wreck. He only just finished masturbating to the mere thought of touching Colonel fucking Mustang, his direct boss and one the very few real allies he and Al had in their quest.  
Mustang was probably the best fucking thing that could have happened to them, and Ed had just tarnished it by picturing Mustang naked. What was even more embarrassing was the fact that they hadn’t even done anything, not that he’d know what to imagine exactly, but it was literally Mustang just pinning him down- and still he felt that small jolt somewhere deep inside, and calling him by his State Alchemist name. Not even his real name. He was so fucked up. 

The Colonel was not only his boss but was more than 10 years his senior. He was an adult whereas Ed was- admittedly, still a kid. Also, Mustang was a good man, the kind you would grit your teeth and roll your eyes so he can’t see the stars in them when he spoke about Amestris and the future he envisioned for all of them. 

Bottom line, Ed was a crazy fucking kid with a crazy fucking crush or something and he should probably feel ashamed as hell, but he didn’t. He felt weird and a bit guilty, yes, also like he wouldn’t mind not seeing the Colonel for a few millennia before he could face him again without blushing, but he also felt free. Sated and happy in a way that felt a little primal and animalistic. It would be fine as long as no one knew, and no one had to know. 

It would be his secret. 

The next day Ed suggested casually that even when they had just two bedrooms, a bathroom and the world’s tiniest kitchen, and basically no more common living space, they should consider each having their room at night.  
He barely hid his blush at how quickly Al agreed. 

.  
.  
.  
.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> I will add to this story sporadically, probably.


End file.
